


no end in sight

by ienablu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Five Acts meme, Gen, Road Trip, Supernatural AU: Croatoan/End'verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-13
Updated: 2012-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:12:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ienablu/pseuds/ienablu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Radio stations are down, and the CD player's broken, so Sam can't pretend to not hear as Ruby says, "It's still an option."</p><p>He tries to anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no end in sight

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://minviendha.livejournal.com/563996.html?thread=3298844#t3298844). For the Five Acts Meme, and the prompts of dystopias, falling, and love/hate. Written with s3!Ruby in mind for reasons that made sense at the time.

"You know--"

"No," Sam says through grit teeth. 

Beside him, Ruby sighs. "I know you don't like it, but--"

"No," Sam repeats, harder. He's said it so many times it doesn't even sound like a word anymore, so many times and he doesn't know how much longer he can keep at it.

Radio stations are down, and the CD player's broken, so Sam can't pretend to not hear as Ruby says, "It's still an option."

He tries to anyway.

\+ + +

For all of Sam and Dean's handful of contingency plans, they never came up with what they'd do if they split up and the Croatoan virus re-emerged and became an epidemic.

Ruby had responded rather well to Sam's (lack of) plan of action.

Better than he had responded to her.

They're working on it.

\+ + +

Being a demon, Ruby is immune to the Croatoan virus. Stuck in a human's body, she's not immune to blood loss or infection.

When they run across a pack of Croats, the only option is to take out a few when they have the element of surprise -- Ruby is a good shot, and becoming better -- and flee.

It's getting more and more difficult. Niveus Pharmaceutical's cure for the virus only made it worse, and the Croats are getting stronger, faster, harder to kill. Harder to avoid.

(If Sam could strengthen his psychic abilities, he might be able to sense them, he and Ruby might be able to avoid them.)

It became quickly apparent that driving on the highway was the best bet; the open countryside makes it easy to see approaching Croats, the long stretches of road require less maneuvering, less navigation. But the infrastructure's gone to hell, along with everything else, and there are large stretches of highways that are can't be driven on, even with the Chevy Trailblazer that Sam's acquired. 

Which leaves them traveling through backroads and suburbia, where Croats can hide amongst trees, linger around sides of houses, attack and overrun with little notice.

Ruby rolls her window down to shoot the Croats, clear the way for Sam to get them the hell out. Quaint neighborhoods are the worst, all snug houses and curving roads, plenty spaces to crawl out of and hazardous to drive. Outside the car they're all gnashing teeth and slobbering, and when they're almost out of the sublet, Ruby gives a cry of pain. She shoots the Croat that bit her, close-range, a few drops of blowback landing on Sam's cheek, and then Ruby pulls her arm back into the car. 

Sam accelerates and within minutes they're on the highway and speeding away.

\+ + +

The car pulls over to the side twenty miles later, the gas cutting off on its own.

"Let's do a quick recap," Ruby says, and she sounds pissed.

Sam wishes he could blame her.

"Look at me," she demands.

He turns his head towards her.

Her skin is pale from blood loss, blonde hair sticky with the blood of Croats. There are brown splotches on her coat, an obvious rip where her elbow was bitten.

"The world's gone to shit, and it's not looking to be any better. I know you think you can find Dean and somehow you two can magically make things better, but I gotta tell you, Sammy, that's looking more and more unlikely. What's really going to happen is that we're going to keep drive around, chasing weak leads on your brother and being chased by Croats, and eventually we are going to not going to be fast enough. You've only got two options, Sam. You can either say yes to Lucifer--"

"No," Sam says, on cue.

"--or you can say yes to _me_."

Sam wants to. He hates himself for it, but he wants to. He's been clean since River Pass, and he craves the thrill of power coursing through him, wants the strength and security that comes with it. Although she's stopping the blood flow and her wound is already healing, he can smell her blood, and it makes his pulse quicken. He wants to, he wants--

Instead, he starts the ignition up again, and continues driving.

\+ + +

The problem is this: Sam knows his and Ruby's endgames are not the same.

He knew this last time they spent months traveling together, though as time wore on he managed to convince himself otherwise, buried himself so deep in denial that in the end he felt betrayed.

Now, he makes no illusions about her motivations. She wants him to get back on demon blood, wants him to say yes to Lucifer. She thinks it'd be best for him, best for them, but he can't tell who that's referring to.

\+ + +

Sam doesn't sleep well. In his dreams, Dean is always Michael, Jess turns out to be Lucifer. Bobby is dead and Cas is a fallen angel.

Ruby is Lillith, Ruby is a liar.

"What do you dream about?" he asks, one late afternoon. She keeps watch while he sleeps -- tries to sleep -- at night, but she sometimes dozes off in the early morning, or early afternoon.

She looks surprised at his question, then sighs wistfully. "French fries."

"We'll pick you up some at the next Wendy's we see."

She lets out a laugh at that -- a sharp, shocked sound, that she quickly suppresses.

That night when he dreams, Ruby is laughing, Ruby is lovely. It's the best dream he's had and the worst sleep he's gotten.

\+ + +

They get to a remote camping ground in the Appalachia, where there's a group of sad, scared, distrusting survivors. There was a guy with close-cropped hair and an old Chevy Impala, he taught them how to fend for themselves, against Croats. He left a month ago, with a guy in a wheelchair, though there was no guy in a trench coat.

They said they were heading west.

\+ + +

Between South Carolina and Colorado they come across five screaming, slobbering cluster of Croats. They lose a side mirror, one of their better guns, and a lot of blood.

\+ + +

"Can you tell me that it will make things better? That it'll make things any easier?"

"I can't tell you that it will," she replies, looking at him, gaze soft. "But I can tell you that it might."

Sam keeps his foot steady on the gas, gaze steady on the bleak landscape around them. They're still two hundred miles from Camp Brenard and there's no guarantee that Dean or Bobby or Cas will even be there, that anyone would even be there. But this is the most hope he's had in months.

\+ + +

The only thing waiting for them at Camp Brenard is an ambush of demons. 

They're weaker demons, though, and Sam is able to dispatch of them without moving a muscle. He gestures at Ruby to stay in the car, as he searches around the camp for an idea of where to go next.

All the signs point towards Detroit.


End file.
